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Photographer: Sante D’Orazio
Note: Content for The Daily Edit is found on the newsstands. Submissions are not accepted
“Those are the difficult moments every photographer has to get over and get away with it and not be discouraged,” he says. “Because if one is sensitive, it has an effect on you. So maybe it’s better not to be sensitive as a photographer and just go on. Many photographers today have that but I never had that. I think it’s nice to be sensitive as a photographer and maybe it’s harder.”
Everybody loves a good idea. The best are often simple and elegant. What if we could build a machine to let people fly like birds? What if people could fit their entire music library in the palm of their hand? What if we could all share tiny bits of information, for free, with anyone, anytime, anywhere in the world?
Good ideas would not exist without their counterparts: bad ones. The worst are often genius, in a bad is good kind of way. (i.e., the mullet.) Most often, though, they’re just plain bad. For a while, my favorite bad idea occurred when I was hired to photograph the bloody slaughter of some local New Mexican cows. My client was a restaurant that wanted to use the snuff pictures to market hamburgers and steaks. Not surprisingly, they are now out of business.
As high as that one might rank, though, while driving from Houston to San Marcos, Texas the other week, I witnessed the granddaddy of all horrible ideas. El numero uno. El jefe. The boss.
I was headed NW on Highway 80, between the little town of Luling, and San Marcos. En route to the Texas State campus, I was excited to see Kate Breakey’s new exhibition, Las Sombras/The Shadows, at the Wittliff Collections.
While carefully minding the speed limit, as I was reminded many times that Texas cops are best avoided, there it was, just off the road to the East. I saw the wrecked plane before anything else. Like the car crashes I mentioned in last week’s column, plane crashes, while less frequently seen by the side of the highway, are equally riveting.
The plane had a crumpled nose, mushed into the dead grass. (Well, sir, you have my attention.) Next, I saw the sign next to it… for skydiving lessons. The hanger loomed in the background, like a kid at a soccer game, ashamed of his dad for berating the ref. Shall I summarize? A company that sells sky-diving lessons thought it wise to advertise said services with a plane crash. I have to nominate this as the worst idea of all time. Anyone care to disagree?
Without bad ideas, though, there would be no such things as good ones. (Yin, yang, etc.) And Kate Breakey’s exhibit was the perfect antidote to the ridiculous wreckage. Should you live anywhere in Texas, or plan to visit Houston, San Antonio, or Austin before July 7th, I’d recommend that you drive to San Marcos to check out the show.
I’d seen an installation of Ms. Breakey’s work at the excellent Etherton Gallery in Tucson back in 2010. I was intrigued. The taste whetted my appetite, and was the impetus for my 3 hour trek through Texas.
Speaking of appetite, I was fortunate to stop at Luling City Market for some of the best Texas barbecue on Earth. It’s so good, when I pulled up outside the joint, a fat man jumped out of a still-moving mini-van next to me, so excited was he to stuff his face. The sealed smokehouse in the back of the restaurant offered some seriously brilliant meat. Cows and pigs, which I rarely eat, called out to my rumbling innards, and insisted they make their way inside my belly. Mission accomplished. (What would a Texas series be w/o at least one George W. reference?)
I’ve always been fascinated by the dichotomy between animals and meat. Alive, they’re animals. Living creatures. Sentient beings. They moo and oink and quack and baa. Dead, they’re food. We don’t call them animals anymore. But if you don’t want to eat them, or kill them, or sell them, there are yet other ways to enjoy a good carcass.
A few years ago, Ms. Breakey got the great idea to pick roadkill and other dead things up off the ground, and turn them into art via the simple, direct process of a photogram. (Talk about preservation technique.) The resulting images do justice to the realities of nature: death is the inevitable conclusion to the cycle of life. And it also perpetuates the food chain, in each and every ecosystem. Bug eats grass, lizard eats bug, bird eats lizard, bobcat eats bird.
There are over two hundred images on display, in different sizes and random vintage frames. Save mountain lions, wolves, bears and humans, the biggest predators around, we see as categorical a display as I can imagine of life and death in the mythical American West. Snakes and birds and mice and rats and frogs and javelinas and foxes and leaves and everything in between. (Including the ominous vultures, which were everywhere in Texas.)
The exhibition map gives all the specific names, but dead, in shadow and repose, there is no way to tell the difference between a yellow-billed cuckoo and a black-throated sparrow. They all just look beautiful, and a little bit horrible as well. The basic human fascinations with collecting, categorizing, preserving, memorializing, and fetishizing are all interwoven.
Some animals repeat, but I was told no two prints are alike. The vultures are huge, as are the coyotes, but the bald eagle is the picture guaranteed to grab your attention. (Like a crashed plane by the side of the road. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.) Apparently, the eagle photo was the most difficult to obtain, as bald eagles rarely drop dead in front of roaming photographers. But strings were pulled, and there you go.
The group of photographs, which I enjoyed in a large, empty gallery, with the subtle sounds of the air conditioning unit in the background, is absolutely fantastic. As a resident of the Southwest, I can attest that the fascination of living in the midst a raw and dangerous natural world is real. If you bump into the wrong creature on the wrong day, you might just end up dead yourself. But the ability to communicate those feelings via art is extremely difficult.
I’d heartily suggest that those of you who can see the show do. There are a few parking spaces reserved for visitors to the Wittliff Collections, in a parking structure under the college library. Kids on skateboards will whizz by you, daring you to hit them with your tiny rental car. (I came so close.) The gallery is on the seventh floor of the library building, and the entry way welcomes you with classic Southwestern decor, including a Saltillo tile floor.
One installation in said entryway was a particular favorite. An eagle, a snake, and a cactus were brought together again. Otherwise known as the sign that led some bloodthirsty Aztecs to found Tenochtitlan so many years ago. (Now Mexico City.) Of course, this wouldn’t be a good story if I hadn’t seen an eagle with a snake in its mouth fly over my shrimpy rental car on the way out of town. Is this true? Do you have to ask?
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Photographer: Dan Forbes
Note: Content for The Daily Edit is found on the newsstands. Submissions are not accepted
By Craig Oppenheimer of Wonderful Machine
Shoot Concept: Environmental portraits of cast members from a television show, including landscape images of the town featured in the show
Licensing: Work Made for Hire
Location: A small city in the Southwest
Shoot Days: 1
Photographer: Up-and-coming conceptual portrait specialist
Agency: None (in-house creative team for TV channel)
Client: Specialty Television channel
Here’s the estimate:
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Concept, Licensing:
The client was in the process of filming the first season of a new reality show, and they wanted to capture individual portraits and a group shot of the 5 main cast members, as well as landscape images of the town in which the show is filmed. The shoot would take place on a single day during the actual filming, so many of the production elements (like hair/makeup styling, props and wardrobe) would be provided by the film production crew.
After discussing the project with the production manager, I learned that the images would mainly be used to promote the show on the channel’s website and possibly in on-air advertisements for the station. However, we were told that the channel has a non-negotiable work-made-for-hire contract that they require all photographers to sign. In fact, we were made aware of this about a month earlier when the same channel asked this photographer to bid on a separate local studio portraiture shoot for a different show. That project didn’t move forward, but through a series of conversations we found that their bottom line budget for similar projects is in the ballpark of $10,000.
The vast majority of the projects we estimate allow us the ability to limit licensing in some way. Sometimes we’re able to have a tight hold on the licensing (for example, Collateral use for 3 months), and other times we need to include a much broader licensing (for example, Advertising, Collateral and Publicity use for 5 years). While these both include a range of usage, the copyright is retained by the photographer. The main difference between “exclusive use in all media forever” and a “transfer of copyright” is 3rd party use. By agreeing to a work-made-for-hire contract, the photographer would concede copyright ownership and the ability for the client to authorize 3rd party use. These contracts are common when working with clients in the television/film industry, and it stems from agreements between these clients and video production teams where transfer of copyright for video footage is standard.
We’ve worked on a handful of projects for photographers and TV channels and have been presented with similar contracts. In fact, we recently worked with the photographer featured in this project to obtain a portfolio meeting at another TV channel in NY, and before confirming a meeting, their photo editor sent over their contract in an effort to be as up front as possible in regards to their copyright requirements. Here is what that contract looked like:
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Now, typically I’d be inclined to integrate a hefty fee for a work-made-for-hire project since there is tremendous value for the client to own the copyright of the photos. However, since I knew their budget from that previous local studio shoot, I was able to extrapolate what their budget might be for a shoot with a bit more production and travel involved. Also, I knew their likely usage limitations from my discussion with the client, and I also took into consideration that the shelf life of the images would likely only be a year or two. Cast members could change, the show could be cancelled, and the promotions done by the channel could potentially change over the course of the following seasons. By integrating pricing more in line with their intended use (rather than requested use) and taking into account the likely budget, straightforwardness of the project and the eagerness of the photographer to get in the door with this client, I settled on a fee of $8,000.
After determining a fee, I like to also refer to pricing resources like BlinkBid and FotoQuote to see what they might recommend. In many instances the licensing options from these pricing resources don’t match up to the exact usage requested from the client, and they especially didn’t correlate in this case. For example, BlinkBid outputs a fee between $20,000 and $30,000 for international use of 1 image in all the categories listed for 1 year. FotoQuote also averages $20,000 for their most extensive “all advertising and marketing” pack for 1 image for 1 year. While it would have been great to charge 30k+ (and even appropriate in rare cases), I knew that in this instance, rates that high would blow the client’s budget and didn’t match up to the value of the client’s intended use.
Assistant: The photographer would be flying in with his assistant, and this accounted for the shoot day and travel days there and back.
Local Digital Tech: In order to save on travel, we planned on hiring a local tech. I’d typically include additional fees for a workstation (around $750 for a monitor, computer and cart) but the tech would be using a laptop and simply be dumping cards while reorganizing files.
Equipment Rental: The photographer would be bringing his own gear, so we included rental fees for 2 camera bodies (~$200.00 per camera per day), a few lenses (~50.00 per lens per day) as well as strobes, power packs and stands (~$250.00 per day). We feel that it’s important to charge for this because it’s not expected that he would own this gear, and it covers the cost to maintain and update his equipment.
Photographer Travel Days: This covered his travel time for one day there and one day back.
Airfare, Lodging, Car Rental: I used kayak.com to research and determine travel costs for the photographer and his assistant.
Meals, Misc: The film production team would provide catering, but I included $100 per day for the 3 days (travel, shoot, travel) for snacks and miscellaneous expenses.
Housekeeping: I made sure to note the items that the client would be providing along with the advance requirements. While the client would handle all retouching internally, they asked that we provide the photographer’s rate in case they needed to farm out the work to him.
Results: The estimate was approved and the first season of the show is now being aired. The images landed in print ads as well as on the client’s website.
Hindsight: This project was particularly interesting due to the work-made-for-hire agreement. This estimate isn’t a representation of rates for all instances of copyright transfer, but it’s an example of what we’ve seen from a few other clients in the television industry. Another photo editor for a separate TV client/project informed us that they also require a work-made-for-hire agreement, and in order to stay competitive she suggested a pretty healthy work-for-hire rate of $10K-$20K per day.
If you have any questions, or if you need help estimating or producing a project, please give us a call at (610) 260-0200. We’re available to help with any and all pricing and negotiating needs—from small stock sales to big ad campaigns.
The trouble with photographs today is that they are so easy to make and share, so seductive, so representative of our lives at any given moments (friends, the crazy things they do, drugs, risks, sex, school, parties, girlfriends, boys, on and on) and you definitely have an eye! But when does it go beyond the merely seductive and dreamy stage? Only you can answer that question whenever you are ready. I bet in a year your photographs will be totally different.
— Joel Meyerowitz to 18 year old Olivia Bee
via NY Mag.
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Photographer: Erik Madigan Heck
Note: Content for The Daily Edit is found on the newsstands. Submissions are not accepted
any time we’re working with a new assistant for the first time, I’m always curious to see how they coil a cable. It’s not a test, more of an observation – are they cautions, are they thoughtful? Are they paying attention? You can learn a lot about someone’s work ethic from something very small and seemingly trivial.
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Photographer: hitandrun
Note: Content for The Daily Edit is found on the newsstands. Submissions are not accepted
It was snowing. Lightly. The roads were not yet covered. Entirely. There was a slight sheen on the asphalt, blanketing the black ice like a grandmother’s knitted afghan. (Big ups, Grandma Ruth, wherever you are.)
I was driving East towards the mountains. My skis were in the back, my mind on the foot of fresh powder waiting to be shredded. I didn’t have my cellphone, which was rare. It was waiting for me on the seat of a little Mazda in the Taos Ski Valley parking lot.
My intended companions were two enormous Germans, so big they were nicknamed Triple G. The Gentle German Giants. One was 6’5″, the other 6’8″ and bald. As a 5’7″ Jewish guy, we were guaranteed to make a ridiculous triumvirate, dashing down the slopes.
There was no one on the Rim Road, so named because it sits above a sheer cliff that drops precipitously down to the Valdez valley, several hundred feet below. This being New Mexico, where things don’t always work right, the road actually narrows to one lane in two places. Sketchy.
I motored along in my Volkswagen Passat station-wagon. I bought it used, from a dead lady, as we planned to have our first child. It’s all about the airbags. The car started to break down the week after the check cleared. Thousands, I poured into the piece of shit. The week before, I cursed the vehicle out loud, screaming, begging the gods to take it from me.
Be careful what you wish for.
I saw the Waste Management garbage truck before he saw me. Enormous. He was chugging out of a dirt road, now slick, perpendicular to the Rim Road before me. With all of his mass, I knew he couldn’t stop in time.
He slammed on the brakes, and skidded into my lane, not 30 yards ahead. I was now, unfortunately, completely cut off. Time slowed down. For real. I had two choices. Take the hit, or jerk the wheel left, whereupon I might plunge down the cliff to my death. Awesome.
Without thinking, I took the hit, and smashed nose first into monstrous steel beast. The crunch was sickening, the smoke almost instantaneous. Thank goodness, I’d bought new tires five days earlier. The airbag deployed, as promised.
Garbage truck, snowy mountain road, edge of a cliff. A recipe for disaster. Somehow, I walked away unhurt. The other driver refused to look me in the eye, or admit his faults. Asshole. He waited, silently, for his corporate honcho to arrive and speak on his behalf. Fortunately, his silence prevented him from lying to the State Policeman, who wrote up the report as I described it.
Thankfully, I’d borrowed my wife’s cell phone, and was able to call for a ride back home. I shook for hours.
Do we all have a story like this? I sure hope not. Though it happened three years ago this week, and I’m very happy with the Hyundai I bought as a replacement, my head still quivers at my good luck. Others, of course, fare not-so-well in similar encounters.
This week, I looked at Nicolai Howalt’s “Car Crash Studies,” put out by Etudes Books in Paris. It didn’t take long for my mind to flash back to that dismal, gray day. I can see it all in my mind so clearly. But the book, you say?
The images are cold, formal examinations of bent steel, crunched glass, and dirty interior carpets. It begins with abstract imagery, pictures one might honestly describe as beautiful. If you like that sort of thing.
After a run of abstractions, the photographer pulls back, and we see the aforementioned airbags. Then, the inside of destroyed cars. Little details emerge. A stuffed animal hanging from a rear view mirror. A pink key chain dangling from the ignition block. A pack of cigarettes never to be smoked. They could be installations, or de facto sculptures inside the wreckage.
Near the end, we see the blood. Only one photo, thankfully. On the steering wheel. Any more would have been heavy-handed. (Looking again, I noticed that this image was also on the cover. I would have chosen differently.)
People can’t help but look at car crashes. Rubber-necking is a morbid and pathetic part of the human condition, but there it is. More traffic is caused by twisted curiosity than I care to ponder. Just think of all that latent economic activity.
Always, though, it comes back to tragedy. These pictures imply it, as did Andy Warhol’s excellent painting series on the same subject. Misery and death are hard to stomach, in literal fashion. A photo of a dead person is just that. A photo. Not much metaphor possible. Here, though, our imagination is stimulated. Our memories flood. And that’s good enough for me.
Bottom Line: Formal, abstract visions of car-crash destruction
To Purchase “Car Crash Studies” Visit Photo-Eye
Full Disclosure: Books are provided by Photo-Eye in exchange for links back for purchase.
Books are found in the bookstore and submissions are not accepted.
Photographer: Alec Soth
I am looking forward to being surprised by imaginative photography that is original, curious, and thoughtful. I am not concerned at all about what equipment has been used, I am not sure it’s really very relevant. I would love to see a representation of the world that isn’t reductive, that doesn’t represent the world in photographic cliches – old or new cliches. Since the first year I judged the contest, I saw photographers emulating work that had been successful in previous years or plagiarizing the style and vision of someone else.
— Gary Knight, Chair of 2013 World Press Photo Contest
via World Press Photo.
Still Images In Great Advertising, is a column where Suzanne Sease discovers great advertising images and then speaks with the photographers about it.
I stumbled across Erik Madigan Heck’s work while looking for great work for this column and I am thrilled I did. When I read Erik’s bio, I was shocked to see what he has accomplished before turning 30. He just received the ICP Infinity award in the applied fashion category. If you check out his work you can see why: www.maisondesprit.com. He is represented by Stockland-Martel (NA) and Wefolk (Europe). Today we are featuring his print campaign for ETRO.
Suzanne: I read in your bio that you love to mix the influences of photography and illustration and this campaign really showcases that. What was your inspiration with this campaign?
For this particular campaign I was looking a lot at Matisse’s later works, and thinking about his use of body positioning, as well as furthering my own interest in the use of frontal primary colors. I’m interested in how reducing colors to block forms creates a sense of flatness, which is more akin to illustration than to photography.
Suzanne: Looking at your work you present the work that is true to your vision and talent. Some clients pull you back while others allow you to showcase your vision, therefore the campaigns stand out. So many artists are scared to show work that is “safer” what is your advice to them?
Safety only comes when one is scared of being uncomfortable, and work should always come from a place of discomfort- otherwise you’re not creating, you’re simply regurgitating.
Suzanne: You got your MFA from Parsons in 2009 and you have all this work created including Neiman-Marcus hiring you in 2012 to shoot their Art of Fashion portfolio and short films. I believe this is because you stayed true to your vision. What was it like to be the youngest photographer that Neiman Marcus ever hired for this legendary campaign?
It was extraordinary to work with a company of this scale and reach, and to work with such a legendary creative director such as Georgia Christensen. I felt very honored, and also felt that I had something original to offer Neiman Marcus- that resonated with what they needed as a brand to differentiate their idea of luxury from the rest of the market.
Suzanne: I love looking at personal work and I was intrigued by “Undercover” What is this story about? And as you can see it creates a dialogue with a buyer. This is why I feel showing your vision in personal work is so important. What are your thoughts on this subject?
Undercover is a Japanese brand actually, its designed by Jun Takahashi, and this was something I created to really push the boundaries of my own idea of high fashion merging with streetwear. It came from a place of referencing photo history with Weegee’s newspaper photographs, as well as bringing in overt political issues such as race and cross continental misunderstandings of what the term “street” even means today. Streetwear has been appropriated by high fashion, and I wanted to bring something raw back to it, but that also was still staged and not based in reality.
Suzanne added to above: I am thrilled that I thought the project was a personal one when in fact it was client assignment. Brilliant.
Suzanne: How do you continue to push your vision while keeping your work so fresh and energetic?
I’m constantly searching for that balance, I tend to do a lot of research in the history of both photography and painting, while also looking a lot to contemporary music, and especially electronic and subversive music cultures. A lot of my work is actually influenced as much by experimental music as it is by art history.
Note: Content for Still Images In Great Advertising is found. Submissions are not accepted.
Erik Madigan Heck was born in Excelsior in 1983, to Croatian and Northern Irish parents. He earned his MFA in Photography and Film Related Studies from Parsons School of Design in New York in 2009- where he currently lives and works. Heck is a continuing guest lecturer in both the graduate and undergraduate programs at The School of Visual Arts in New York, and is the creative director of the semi-annual art journalNomenus Quarterly Heck’s advertising and editorial clients include Levis, BMW, Neiman Marcus, Eres, Vanity Fair, W Magazine, The New York Times Magazine, TIME, Le Monde, The New Yorker, amongst many others. His fashion clients include Ann Demeulemeester, Haider Ackermann, Giambattista Valli, Kenzo, Mary Katrantzou, and The Row. In 2012 Erik Madigan Heck was a recipient of “The Shot” award, and named as one of the top 6 “exhilarating new talents” by W Magazine and the International Center of Photography. In 2011 he received both the Forbes Magazine 30 under 30 Award, as well as the PDN 30 Award. Heck was also nominated for the prestigious ICP Infinity award in the applied fashion category. Heck is also a past National Scholastic Gold Medal recipient.
APE contributor Suzanne Sease currently works as a consultant for photographers and illustrators around the world. She has been involved in the photography and illustration industry since the mid 80s, after founding the art buying department at The Martin Agency then working for Kaplan-Thaler, Capital One, Best Buy and numerous smaller agencies and companies. She has a new Twitter fed with helpful marketing information. Follow her@SuzanneSease.
…we take the same view regarding freelancers speccing in material. Even if they have returned home safely. This is because it could be seen as encouragement go out and take unnecessary risks in the future. The situation out there is incredibly risky. And we do not want to see any more bloodshed. There has been far too much already.
via dvafoto.
Photographer: Ilan Rubin
Last week, I wrote a column that tried to tell it like it is. The world we inhabit, one that revolves around photography, is painfully un-diverse. Here in the United States, those in the profession are very, very likely to only interact with others of a similar background. (And skin color, sadly.)
While I left room for the exceptions, the fact that there seem to be so few is troubling. How do we change this? Whether it’s people complaining about all-white competition-jurys, all-male Superbowl commercials, or writers like me scrambling to review books by women and minorities, the numbers are obviously skewed. What to do?
The only answer I’ve been able to glean is to do some boots-on-the-ground style outreach. As I’ve said before, I spent seven years teaching photography to at-risk minority youth. I’ve done the work, and seen how easily art concepts can become embedded in young minds of any color or gender.
Another tried-and-true methodology is to honestly examine one’s own biases, and then try to challenge them. Most of us have a hard time admitting to negative preferences or stereotypes. Not a pleasant conversation to have with oneself.
Looking inward, I had to admit I was biased against Texans. (Here in New Mexico, it’s a state passion.) As I mentioned in a column a month or so ago, after years of seeing Texan plates on personal Tour Buses towing Hummers, it was easy to get angry. Throw in the bluster and big belt-buckles, and I can honestly say I was proud of the hate.
Whether geographically, racially, or gender-based, it’s not OK to dislike people en masse. (Obviously.) So I was thrilled to spend a little time in Houston last year, and realize that my pre-conceptions were off. I didn’t hate Texans, just the folks in the Dallas to Amarillo corridor. And even in Texas, that seems to be an established sentiment. (Yes, I am now mostly joking.)
As much as I enjoyed last year’s taste of Texas toast, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to re-visit H-town last week. I even planned a little road trip up to Central Texas for a quick visit to über-hip Austin. (Did I listen to some country music along the way? You bet I did. KNRG, the Renegade, is all Texas music, all the time. The first three songs I heard were all anti-urban. (Including a hysterical mockery of the aforemetioned Dallas.))
To be clear, this article is but an introduction to a series, like we did with San Francisco late last year. (How’s that for polar opposites?) I saw some fantastic art exhibitions, met with some intelligent, friendly and unpretentious art professionals, and ate some truly amazing food. Basically, I had a great time. From Texas hater to convert in 10 short months.
Before I leave you, though, I want to share one of my thin-sliced-stereotypical observations. I can’t take advantage of it myself, being chained by mortgage and blood to this extraordinary piece of rural paradise I call home. But some of you can. So here it goes.
Houston is the fourth largest city in the United States. The three cities above it, NYC, LA, and Chicago, are famously expensive. Houston is not. They are also known for exclusivity, and make it difficult to break into established networks, lacking the proper school connections and/or friend lists. Houston is extremely open and accessible, from what I’ve seen. (And the FotoFest Biennial provides entry to all comers.)
Beyond that, Houston has the kind of financial and cultural resources that exist in very few places in the world. Its economy is booming, and ought to continue to grow, as the energy sector is unlikely to wither. The port, connected to the city via the shipping channel, is also thriving. (And global trade is not going away any time soon.) The unemployment rate is below 6%, and the median income is over $70,000 per year. (Thank you for the statistics, Houston Public Radio.) Essentially, the place is leaking money.
The city is vast and diverse, with massive immigrant and minority communities, including Vietnamese, African-American, and Latino. It’s like a Texan Los Angeles in scope, minus the mountains and oceans. (Of attitude.) It’s the perfect place to encounter those from backgrounds different than yours: a city where biases go to die.
I noticed vacant commercial real estate everywhere; storefronts just waiting to be turned into artist-run galleries or commercial photo studios. I also spoke with an artist/curator who produces art shows for those downtown mega-corporate-skyscrapers that I mentioned in last year’s article. While state funding for the arts has been cut, (it is still Texas,) the public-private combination seems to offer insane amounts of cash and opportunities for the local community.
In the parlance of economics, Houston is an undervalued resource: a city just waiting for a fresh round of hipster-style-gentrification. And if you doubt me, you can trust Forbes magazine, which listed Houston as the coolest city in America in 2011. I’m not sure what their criteria was, and it’s likely to be very different from mine. (As Forbes itself is actually uncool.) But you can bet there will be a proverbial gold rush of 20-something energy-sector/hedge-fund yuppies who’ll rush down there due to Forbes’ blessing.
Who are they to you? Will they be your new friends, if you move to H-town? Probably not. Would you find them “cool,” in their khakis and button down polo shirts? It’s unlikely. (Again with the stereotyping.) But might they make up the bulk of your collector base, or client base, for decades to come? Now you’re getting the picture.
still love old-school promos too, btw. I get a stack of mail everyday, and while 95% of it might go in the trash if there’s that one promo I like I put it on my stack of promos on the shelf (see below). It might be nine or ten months later, but I’ll remember the work and will go look for the promo if we want to consider hiring that person.
–Leslie Baldwin, Texas Monthly Photography Editor
via I Love Texas Photo .